A/N -So sorry it's been a while since the last post! I hope there are still readers out there. This story will be going up more slowly than Cimmerian Shade because I'm still in the writing process with this, and Cim Shade is completed...I'm just editing that one before I post. Anyway, hope you like the chap! :) Pleaseeeeeee comment, vote or fan if you like!

Abigail couldn’t help but tug, once again, at the itchy lace collar that would surely leave a rash on her neck come morning. After smiling, and nodding uncomfortably at a gentleman who gave her the once over before raising a brow and high-tailing it to the other side of the room, she couldn’t help but wish that she could just disappear. Just for one second. Was that too much to ask?

All of her happiness in coming to the party dissipated in a flash when Iona burst into her room, insisting she wear the most hideous gown she’d ever laid eyes on. It was definitely out-of-date, lace was literally everywhere. It bunched up at her wrists, and was so thick at the collar that it seemed to be holding up her neck. To make matters worse the gown was not her color; gold, was not her color.

Her flaming red hair and bright-gold satin gown made her stand out in the whole room and she wondered if Iona had done this to her on purpose. After all, the gown she’d originally laid out was beautiful. But no…she couldn’t allow herself to think that way about her cousin. She was family, and well…if you couldn’t count on your family, then who could you count on?

“What are you doing against this wall, dear? You should go socialize, make some friends. You know, I accepted the invite for you, don’t you?”

A serene smile plastered on her face, she turned towards her aunt. “I will aunt…I was just about to…mingle,” she lied.

Beatrice nodded, satisfied. “You shan’t leave without dancing with one of these fine gentlemen. Mark my words,” she said smiling, and took herself off.

There wasn’t a way on earth that any man present would ask her to dance…not looking as she did. After catching her aunt’s eye, and seeing her nod encouragingly at her, she pushed herself away from the wall and forced her feet to move.

It felt as if a sack of bricks were tied to each leg; the urge to cower behind the crowd and melt into the wall was so strong. Her only hope was to make it to the wall on the other side of the room. At least then her aunt would see that she was moving around.

She tried to push her way through the many ladies and gentleman standing in the center of the ballroom, all the while, trying even harder to ignore some of the snickers coming her way from the ladies, and the amusement emanating from the men.

“I look like a fool,” she muttered.

To her dismay, it was announced that the music was to start, and though she tried to make a hasty retreat from the dance floor, she found it nearly impossible to make her way to her savior; the wall.

“Excuse me,” she called out, but to no avail.

“If those without a partner could please, leave the dance floor, we could start the music,” a deep voice called out.

All eyes fell upon her, and she knew, in that moment…that had she been wearing a red gown, her face would certainly match it.

“Miss, do you have a partner?”

Abigail looked up at the slightly overweight middle-aged man standing next to her. Impatience was set in his features, his annoyance palpable. When Abigail glanced at his partner it became extremely clear as to why. He was anxious to dance with his partner. She was a brunette-haired beauty; a fact which made Abigail even more self-conscious and blatantly aware that she should have never come to the party to begin with.

“She does.”

Jerking her head up, she found herself looking at the profile of a man standing before her, who in turn, was staring daggers at the couple next to her. At first, the brunette gasped in outrage before switching her gaze to Abigail, slowly looking her up and down, and smirking.

Once the issue of partners was settled, the music began and Abigail let out an audible sigh of relief. Her partner finally looked down at her, taking in her appearance; his expression one of disbelief.

Abigail’s heart slammed against her ribcage. It might have been better had the man been …oh…unattractive. But this man was far from it. His fitted black breeches and jacket clung to him like a glove, defining his muscles and outlining his tall stature. He wasn’t a large man, but he definitely towered over her. Confidence reeked from every pore of his body, making her feel out of sorts.

“Nice….gown,” he stated, his grey eyes roaming over her once again.

Abigail blinked. Twice. Did she know him from somewhere? It seemed as if-

“Can you speak?”

“Ahem, yes. I’m sorry. Th-thank you for…well for-“

“Saving you a second time?”

“A second-?!” Any further words were cut off as she took the hand of another gentleman, circling him, before making her way back to her original partner.

“Sir,” she began, once she faced him again. “Do we know each other?”

“We do…rabbit,” he returned, a hint of a smile playing across his face.

Auburn eyebrows furrowed before dawning lit in her emerald eyes. “Mr. Cane?” she gasped, then immediately flushed in embarrassment.

He threw back his head and laughed. “So you have named me as well, have you?”

“I have,” she admitted, still blushing. “Though I must say…you live up to your nickname far more than I live up to mine,” she boldly stated.

“Recent events would prove otherwise,” he firmly retorted.

“Nevertheless, I-“

“And I seem to remember you stating that you would never need my assistance again.”

“I hardly needed your assistance tonight, sir. I was making my way off of the dance floor and –“

“It seemed to me as if you became lost in trying to do even that…again.”

“What do you mean, again?” she quietly demanded to know.

“You also had trouble finding your carriage the night you decided to act foolishly.”

Abigail gasped. He was just as rude as when she first met him. And she was beginning to see that he was almost bringing out the worst in her. Almost.

The music finally ended, saving her from having to form a reply to him. She quickly bobbed a curtsy, spun on her heel, and left him standing where he was. She could have sworn she heard masculine laughter follow her retreat, a suspicion that made her quicken her pace to reach the freedom of the outdoors.

Under normal circumstances she would never treat a dance partner thus, but her own embarrassment, heightened by Mr. Cane’s rudeness made her want to escape the confines of the building as quickly as possible.

After approaching the terrace’s rail, she leaned over it, looking out at the gardens. Subconsciously scratching her neck, and tugging once more at the offensive material, she quickly turned at the sound of footsteps.

“I don’t believe we have met,” a feminine voice called out from the shadows.

Abigail fully turned to face the woman, and after she stepped into the moonlight, recognition flashed in Abigail’s eyes. It was the same woman that was dancing with the overweight gentleman she’d annoyed earlier.

“I am Catalina Williams,” she stated, a secretive half-smile playing at the corners of her mouth, “and you are?”

“Abigail Greenwood. It’s nice to meet you,” she returned, fully intimidated by the beauty that stood before her.

“And you,” Miss Williams retorted.

Abigail nodded uncertainly.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were dancing with Mr. Grey. Are you two very well acquainted?” she slyly questioned, walking to stand next to Abigail.

So his name is Mr. Grey. “Um...no. No…we are very new acquaintances.”

“Interesting. And how did you meet?”

“Not under the very best of circumstances, I’m afraid.”

Miss Williams’ eyebrow rose in curiosity. “Oh?”

“To make a long story short, he assisted me when I was in need.”

“Hmm. Ever the hero…isn’t he? I think him quite handsome…tell me Miss Greenwood, do you share that sentiment?”

What was this woman doing? Never had she spoken to someone as bold as Miss Catalina Williams. Unfamiliar with a person such as her, Abigail didn’t quite know what to make of her, but decided to be as honest as she in her next response.

“I’m afraid that Mr. Grey and I do not quite get along.”

When interest flared in Miss William’s eyes, Abigail knew that her answer was adequate in deflecting from the real answer to her question, and she tried hard not to sigh in relief right there on the spot.

“So this is where you have been hiding,” a deep voice murmured. Mr. Grey then revealed himself, approaching the two women that stood conversing.

A flirtatious smile lit Miss William’s face. “You know that I love hiding…Mr. Grey. It is my favorite game.”

White teeth gleamed in the moonlit terrace as Simon took a step closer to Miss Williams. “You would do well to remember that at some point, the game ends, and the hider is caught…Miss Williams.”

Abigail subconsciously took a step back from the pair. At the moment, not only did she feel blatantly out of place next to the couple that obviously took an interest in each other, but Mr. Grey looked as if he were stalking prey…he resembled a predator, and she couldn’t help but remember his quick and almost lethal actions the night he’d come to her rescue. On the outside he resembled calm, and grace…but there was something dangerous about him…something she didn’t wish to investigate. Abigail was anything but a risk taker. She preferred to remain safe, and free of danger…this man exuded it.

Miss Williams tilted her head, smiling coyly at him. “You are being unbelievably rude to the woman you danced with earlier. You haven’t even addressed her Mr. Grey. I do believe you have injured her feelings.”

So focused was he on Miss Williams, that he’d almost forgotten the awkward chit was even there. Simon switched his gaze to her, and noticed her tugging at her collar, before quickly lowering her hand.

“No, no, I’m quite fine. Thank you for your concern Miss Williams. It was very nice to meet you but I must find my aunt, now. Please excuse me.”

“Oh, but wait! You mustn’t leave yet!”

Abigail paused, and hesitantly turned to face her once more.

“Mr. Grey,” chided Miss Williams, “you have yet to invite Miss Greenwood to your estate I assume?”

“Pardon?”

“The hunting party you are hosting,” she hinted. “If you would like me to attend, I’ll need a companion. “ She glanced at Abigail and continued. “Miss Greenwood informed me of how fond she is of you, and I think we would have quite a jolly time, all three of us, if you extended the invite.”

Abigail’s hand rested at her throat, her eyes wide in fright. She’d never been away from her aunt, nor Iona, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to. Immersing herself around complete strangers did not appeal to her in the slightest. And what did Miss Williams mean by saying that she was fond of Mr. Grey when she expressed otherwise?!

“Please,” Abigail tried. “I don’t wish to impose and am to leave tomorrow to go back home-“

“Oh, no, but you must come with us,” Miss William’s pressed, leaving Mr. Grey’s side, and taking hold of Abigail’s hand. “I would so love for you to come. Please say you will, I shan’t take no for an answer.”

Abigail looked down at their joined hands in confusion and then back at Miss Williams.

“Of course, I extend the invitation to you as well, Miss Greenwood,” Mr. Grey called out flatly.

He doesn’t want me there. “I’m sorry,” Abigail shook her head. “I would not be able to go…my cousin and aunt would not permit it.”

“You may bring your aunt, right Mr. Grey?”

Abigail looked beyond Miss William’s shoulder to the man who stood behind her. His eyes…those eyes…pierced right through her. Though, the look in them was not friendly. Not one bit.

“Of course. Bring your aunt.”

His words sounded more like an order to Abigail. No doubt he was anxious for Miss Williams to attend…and since she expressed that she couldn’t attend without a companion…he must be desperate as well as she.

Abigail sighed. “I shall ask my aunt, and cousin…but I do not think-“

“Oh, do not worry about that. I’ll have my own parents ask your aunt. It would be as a favor to my own,” she stated, patting Abigail’s hand. “We shall figure out the traveling details tonight.”

Iona will not like this.

“Then it’s settled. Shall we go inside?” The impatient question was directed towards Miss Williams. Mr. Grey extended his arm, which she graciously accepted.

Abigail was left standing, baffled, wondering how everything happened so quickly. Her hand paused in scratching her neck when Miss Williams called out her name before entering the building.

“Miss Greenwood?”

Abigail’s head jerked up, her hand instantly flew down from her neck. “Yes, Miss Williams?”

“Nice gown,” she said, laughing as Mr. Grey guided her inside.

Abigail frowned at the pair and scratched her neck once more, fighting the urge to rip the thing entirely from her neck. “So much for a relaxing evening,” she mumbled, and went inside to find the nearest wall.